


Alight

by AldreaAlien



Series: Maxwell Trevelyan [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-25
Updated: 2015-05-25
Packaged: 2018-04-01 03:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4004875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AldreaAlien/pseuds/AldreaAlien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, you've got to be careful in how you wake a mage when surrounded by flammable things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alight

For the first time in what felt like forever, Maxwell had managed to sleep in. Nevertheless, he was awake now. And it was morning. Not even just barely so. This was full sunlight shining through the windows morning. Still, a little rebellious part of him rejoiced in not being woken with messages or reports.

Of course, the fact he wasn't alone might've had something to do with that.

He rolled onto his side. Dorian slept on, despite the time of day, with no sign of waking. _A pity_. They'd both practically fallen asleep as they hit the mattress, utterly exhausted. He supposed a day of fighting their way back to Skyhold would do that to a person. At least the bandits that'd camped along the route here were gone.

Maxwell shuffled closer. "Dorian?" he whispered into his lover's ear. No response, not even a mumble. He ran a finger up his lover's spine, light enough to tickle.

This was rewarded with a twitch and Dorian rolled onto his back.

Wicked thoughts flickered through his mind. Just how much further could he go before the mage woke? His hand slid down the trim chest. Light enough to feel the steady rise and fall of Dorian's breathing, but heavy enough not to irritate. His hand slid lower still and he grinned. His lover was either poorly feigning sleep or dreaming _very_ good dreams.

He wriggled farther down the bed, pulling off the blankets as he went. At his back, the fireplace burned on, hot enough to keep the morning chill at bay. Dorian grunted and one hand sleepily groped along the bed, searching for cover.

 _No you don't_. He settled between his lover's legs and lowered his head.

Dorian's breath hitched. Then a low groan broke the silence. Fingers lazily slid their way into Maxwell's hair. " _Max_." The word was soft and a little slurred, but definitely encouraging. Even better, it was the right name.

He kept going and the moans grew louder, more insistent. That only urged him into lavishing his lover with every bit of his attention. Dorian's hips bucked and the pressure on the back of his head increased. Maxwell barely paused before matching the rhythm Dorian set. In his ears, his lover's blissful moans grew hoarse. He adjusted his fingers, humming to himself before—

Heat engulfed his left side. The wrongness of this fact reached his brain right alongside a sudden _whoomph_ hitting his ears.

Fire!

"Whoa!" Maxwell sat back on his heels, barely missing being hit by a very-much-awake Dorian as they both made an instant scramble for safety. The curtain, the completely dry and highly flammable curtain hanging off his bedposts, roared with all the force of a bonfire. _Put it out!_ his mind screamed. He dared to glance from the inferno in search of a way to extinguish the fire before it—

Ice blasted across the bed as Dorian dealt with the blaze, smothering the flames in seconds.

His limbs suddenly weak with relief, Maxwell collapsed back onto the bedding. He eyed the tendrils of frost dissipating in the warmer air. The remainder of the burnt curtain swung freely from its rings. His gaze turned to the nearby candlestands. The candles were little more than drooping messes of wax, but that also meant they couldn't have been the cause.

 _He set the curtain alight_? Yes, the fabric would burn readily enough with a normal flame, but not that hot and quick. That meant magic. "Well, that outcome was…" He searched for the right word. Found, it escaped his lips in a snicker. "…unexpected." To say the least. Certainly a first on his list. _Guess I can scratch waking him like that ever again_. Or move all the flammable items to another room.

Silence greeted him. Maxwell turned to find his lover hadn't moved from where he sat upon the bed, scrubbing his face. Dorian didn't look injured, but he supposed it _was_ possible for the flames to have touched the mage before he could put it out.

"Are you all right?"

Dorian's shoulders shook with contained laughter. "I'm fine." He lifted his head and raked back his hair. "Although, I can't say that's ever happened before."

Grinning, Maxwell joined him on the end of the bed. "It _did_ kind of kill the mood."

"This is your fault, you know."

His grin widened. His lover deemed _Maxwell_ responsible for having accidently set the curtain on fire? That was blame he'd freely admit. "Should I be lucky it was just a curtain, then? At least it's easily replaceable." One word and, given a few days, it'd be good as new. Better even.

Dorian frowned and what sounded like a mumbled curse slipped out. "As much as I'd like to hear you fumble over explaining _how_ it caught fire, I don't think I want to be around when you do."

Was he blushing? _He is_. His lover, his charming and rather ostentatious lover, was _embarrassed_. "Ah." Maxwell padded over to his desk. "Yes, about that." He snatched up the candlestick and thrust the wick into the blazing fireplace, melting away a great deal of the wax. "I guess I should be thankful you _were_ here." With wax running down the candlestick's side, he clambered back onto the bed.

Dorian's brow furrowed in confusion. Those pale eyes flicked from his face to the candle.

"I can be such a clumsy fool at times." He tipped the candlestick over the side of the bed, sending hot wax all over the stone floor.  "And, when I was in the Chantry, the mothers were always admonishing me for reading in bed by candlelight. It's a wonder things don't catch fire around me more often."

That adoring, puppy-eyed expression of his briefly took over his lover's face. Clearing his throat, Dorian spoke. "Yes, well…" The corner of his mouth lifted. "We can't have the Herald of Andraste dying before he can save the world, now can we? Especially not due to him being a fool." He nudged Maxwell. "You're welcome, by the way."

He grinned and snatched the candlestick from the floor. The fall had dented the base enough to require a new one. This wouldn't be the first time he'd looked the fool. And it likely wouldn't be the last. _Well, some things should remain between us_. Chuckling, he re-examined the full damage. Perhaps a few precautions would be in order, the removal of a few unneeded bits of fabric. "I never liked the curtains anyway."

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, you reached here. Not very long, granted. This piece has been sitting on my HD for some time as I debated with myself over posting it. So, providing you didn't just skim to here, I hope it gave you a bit of a giggle, because I sure as hell didn't think seriously whilst writing it. I do love putting characters in awkward situations every now and then, especially sexual ones. Things can't always go to plan, after all.  
> If you were looking for something steamier, I'm sorry but this isn't it, but you could try "Light Reading" where things _do_ go right. I promise.


End file.
